


Change of Plans

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Skype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine calls Kurt after the lock-in.</p>
<p>set within 5x10 (“Trio”), with no spoilers beyond</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change of Plans

**Author's Note:**

> warning for a very brief mention of Finn

There are, Kurt is more than mature enough to admit to himself, a few positive things about Rachel no longer living in the loft.

He feels the loss of her companionship and understanding like a hole in his chest (and he’s going to miss her share of the rent at the end of the month when he has to dip into his clothing fund to pay his half; he’s enjoyed having more freedom in his budget with three of them there), but he can enjoy the extra elbow room that not having her there affords him. He doesn’t have to fight for space in the refrigerator around her vegan voice-enhancing smoothies and weird kiwi-poppy seed salad dressing, he can take extra long showers without the threat of her barging in on him to loosen up her voice in the steam, and with only two schedules to line up now there are actually times when he is _alone_ in the apartment, a rare luxury since Santana moved in.

Kurt can be _alone_. He can do his workout without Rachel coming to talk his ear off. He can walk around shirtless without Santana catcalling. He can sing, work on his scene study homework, or talk to Blaine without any threat of being overheard.

He absolutely _hates_ Rachel being gone and all of the bitterness between his friends that’s changing his dreams of what his life in New York can be - and honestly he isn’t all that thrilled about there being no buffer for Santana’s complete and undistracted attention when she’s in a bad mood at home - but having some privacy again is pretty damn incredible.

So when he hears his laptop chime with an incoming call late in the evening when Santana is working a shift at the diner, Kurt hums happily to himself as he carries his tea into his room and pulls the curtain shut more out of habit than necessity. He adjusts his wide-necked sleep shirt so that it’s showing off his shoulder the way he knows Blaine likes and settles on his stomach on his bed with his laptop in front of him.

He knows just how he’d like to take advantage of the privacy tonight.

Kurt dips his head as he clicks on the window to accept Blaine’s call, and he lowers his voice to the sultry lilt that never fails to get Blaine’s attention. “Well, hello,” he says with a flirty sway of his bare shoulder when Blaine’s handsome face appears on the screen.

For the first time ever, the lilt fails. “I don’t ever want to think about kissing again,” Blaine tells him with a fervor and disgust that shocks Kurt into silence for a second.

Kurt blinks in surprise at the image of his beloved, attractive, extremely kissable fiancé. He can’t have heard that right. “Excuse me?”

Blaine’s tense face bobbles as he adjusts his laptop on his knees; he’s sitting on the floor at the end of his bed in a pair of pajamas that is exposing the line of his neck and the hollow at the base of his throat in a way that would be distracting if his voice weren’t cracking with misery and stress. “I have had the _worst_ night.”

Giving up on or at least delaying his barely formed plans for some cyber-intimacy, Kurt sighs and gets a little more comfortable. “What’s going on? Weren’t you breaking into the school with Sam and Tina tonight?”

“We _snuck_ in, not broke in,” Blaine says, and there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes Kurt go even more alert and worried. “And yeah. We did. And it was horrible. I mean, the part with the fire extinguishers was fun, and Sam looks surprisingly good in a skirt, but then there was Twister and too many energy drinks, and it ended with Sam trying to suck Tina’s face off. Or maybe eat it. I don’t know.” Blaine’s face contorts in disgust. “There might have been teeth involved. I couldn’t tell. His terrifyingly enormous lips were in the way.”

Kurt takes a moment to sort his way through the words and images Blaine is all but spitting out, and he ends up on, “How many energy drinks did you have?”

Blaine shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I know is that Sam’s mouth is really, really big, like inhumanly large, and while I used to think that was a plus now it’s going to give me nightmares.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt offers. He knows enough about Blaine’s crush on Sam not to want to touch that topic with a ten foot pole, even if he remembers being mesmerized by that mouth when he’d first met Sam, too. “At least it stopped Tina from crying for a little while?”

Blaine makes a noise that isn’t quite a laugh. “I guess. Did I tell you she started sobbing over the french bread pizza at lunch yesterday? She says she’ll miss its soggy, cardboard crust most of all.”

Kurt nods. It seems ridiculous to him; it’s not like it was over tater tots. “And the smell of the janitor’s floor disinfectant, which I will never understand.”

“No,” Blaine says.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says again, because Blaine looks so defeated, so sad.

“I know she’s having a hard time, but I just don’t know why they’d ruin our night by sneaking off and making out.” Blaine slumps back against his bed, some of the fight draining out of him. “We were supposed to be having fun together. We were supposed to be making memories. Good ones, not ones I want to scrub out of my brain. The night was supposed to be special and just for us.”

“I totally get it,” Kurt replies with sympathy.

“I don’t know why they had to ruin something amazing for something so stupid. And gross. Ugh.”

“I know,” Kurt says. “I’m seriously on my last nerve with Rachel and Santana and their massive egos getting in the way of everything we had planned together, too.”

“What is _wrong_ with people?” Blaine asks, his face still crumpled in that unhappy way that makes Kurt want to pull him in for a hug.

“I don’t know. I’m giving them one last chance, and that’s it,” Kurt tells him. He isn’t happy about it, but it’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do. “I’m in New York to live my life and do incredible things, not babysit divas who put themselves ahead of everyone and everything else. I didn’t have a lot of choice about that in Ohio, but I do have a choice _now_.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says. “If Sam and Tina want to spend their time making out instead of using these last few weeks to make memories together the three of us, then maybe it’s good we’re almost out of here. I don’t need friends like that.”

Kurt’s mouth twists a little, because he knows that Blaine means it only in part; Blaine’s hurt might overshadow his innate loyalty for a moment, but Kurt knows it won’t be forever. He’ll snap back soon. It’s sort of sweet to watch, even if it means Blaine’s going to be sad all over again about graduation.

“At any rate, _I’m_ glad you’re almost done there,” Kurt tells him. “Because I have next to no hope that Rachel and Santana are going to pull their heads out of their asses, and I’m moving on. I’m forming a new band without them. I’m making my own way. And my fiancé is graduating from high school and coming to join me.”

Sure, living without Rachel in New York was never his plan, and it sits wrong on Kurt’s shoulders, like he’s put his sweater on backwards, but when has he let unexpected stumbling blocks stop him from going forward? Sometimes trying different ways to wear things opens new doors to fabulousness, after all. He’s not going to let Rachel and Santana stop him from getting what he wants. He’s not going to let their feud ruin his chances and happiness.

It’s not like either of them has _his_ best interests at heart, after all; Santana never has, and Rachel showed her true colors by leaving the way she did and shutting him out. Kurt’s not all that surprised and loves her still, but it’s who she is, and he can’t get mired in the mud she’s slinging. Not anymore. He doesn’t have to.

It’s a strange but freeing thought. He doesn’t _have_ to be involved in their nonsense at all. He thinks it’s a sign of maturity to realize that, that they all had the common interest of getting out of Ohio before and needed to lean on each other to do it, but now that they’re in New York they each have separate paths to take. He doesn’t have to do everything with them at his side. He doesn’t have to solve anything for them. They’re his friends... but they’re not his only friends. They’re not his only chance to make it.

He can do what he wants how he wants it. It’s amazing. Weird, but definitely empowering.

Blaine lets out a long, frustrated sigh, but his expression softens as he watches Kurt on his screen. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re absolutely right. We’ll make _our_ life. And _that_ will be perfect.”

A part of Kurt wants to laugh, because he can’t remember the last time he thought things were actually perfect. Adulthood is surprisingly _hard_ , complicated in a whole new way from the morass of high school and infinitely more exhausting. New York is huge, NYADA is thankless, and the search for fame is elusive at best, at least for him. Friends are complicated. Finn’s death is senseless. There’s no right way to do anything and far too many wrong ways.

None of it is easy. It definitely isn’t perfect in the way he always dreamed it would be, back before rejection letters and cheating started to dull the shine of his hopes, making them grittier for their imperfections but still just as compelling to him, harder to pin down the right path for them in the real world beyond his naive fantasies but more deserving of his focus when he does. Perfection is what seems naive now.

But no, that’s not true; Kurt does remember things feeling perfect not that long ago. Everything _was_ absolutely perfect when he walked down the Dalton stairs toward Blaine, showered in flower petals and song, lit with love. The proposal was magical, a dream, and _that’s_ his future. That was the beginning of it.

Kurt feels his heart lift, just a little. So his best friend has left and is shunning him for the moment. So his band is falling apart. So out of the three of them he’s the only one not on Broadway. So right now things aren’t perfect. It doesn’t matter.

_Blaine_ is his future, and it _will_ be perfect. They’ll make it that way. Even the hard parts, the things that hurt, the losses, the failures that will come as they both find their way to their own stardom. They’ll find a way to make it all perfect, too.

So Kurt doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t argue. He just smiles at the man he loves and says, “We will.” Maybe it’ll be a messier perfection than he’d imagined as a kid, but he still wants it. It’s still more than worth fighting for. And he has so many more choices about how to get what he wants now than he ever did in Ohio.

It takes a moment, but a bit more of the wildness drains out of Blaine’s eyes, and he smiles back. “I really love you, Kurt,” he says vehemently, like it’s a counterpoint to everything else he’s feeling.

“I love you, too,” Kurt says and lets his voice go a little flirty again, just testing the waters.

Blaine doesn’t respond as eagerly as he usually does, but his smile goes wider. He shifts in his seat and says, like he’s just - finally! - noticed, “You look really nice tonight.”

Kurt pulls at the collar of his shirt and says, “This old thing?”

Blaine’s chuckle is warm and knowing. “You bought it a month ago,” he reminds him. “And you know how I feel about it.”

“I do,” Kurt says, grinning at him. It’s easier to flirt in person, when he’s able to touch or even to make proper eye contact, but he’s figuring out the best ways to take advantage of this time apart, too.

Blaine shifts again, a sure sign that he’s growing interested. “Is anyone there?”

Kurt glances over toward the curtain out of reflex. He knows he’s alone. There’s no murmur of conversation or the television. There’s no gurgling of the shower. There’s no song filtering through the fabric. There’s no humming of Rachel’s omnipresent humidifier in the room that used to be hers. The loft is empty and quiet, strangely so. It doesn’t quite feel like home. “No,” he says. “Santana’s at work.”

Blaine’s eyebrows draw together, like it’s as weird for him as it is for Kurt that Rachel doesn’t live there anymore, gone from so many of Kurt’s daily routines in a flash of fury and spite, but he says, “Well, if you _wanted_...”

His blood heating at the flirty note turning Blaine’s voice low, Kurt bites his lip and lets Rachel fall from his mind. “Oh, I do,” he says. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Blaine replies, his image dipping as he gets up off the floor and onto his own bed, but the words are serious. “Soon, right? We’ll see each other soon.”

“Yes,” Kurt promises him, because in this crazy, unreliable world full of people he can’t count on and futures he’s still desperately fighting to reach, there’s one constant, one sure future: Blaine.

Kurt might still be straining to grab hold of his other dreams, and he might have to strive for them without the friends he expected by his side, but he’s not letting go of Blaine. He’ll never let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: I am spoiler-free! Please do not spoil me for anything coming ahead in the show!


End file.
